


The Visit

by light_the_stars



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9486404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_the_stars/pseuds/light_the_stars
Summary: What would happen if Evalin and Rhoe took a young Aelin to see Meave when they were supposed to. And while they were there, she met the brooding warrior, Rowan.





	1. Chapter 1

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius stood before the gates of Dorenelle with her parents beside her and with her hand in theirs. 

Her mother knelt in front of her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Aelin’s ear. “Now, Aelin. You remember what I told you about Aunt Maeve?” She nodded and swallowed loudly. “That’s a good girl.” Her mother stood up, took Aelin’s hand, and the three of them, with their selected guards, walked through the gate and into Dorenelle. 

Aelin’s hands were like dripping faucets they were so sweaty. She was very nervous and had been for the past weeks of travel from Orynth to Wendlyn. Her mother would pace around the ship’s decks and her father would train with their selected guards.But Aelin, she had her books to keep her company. All the different stories and adventures the far off characters would have. She wished that her cousin Aedion had traveled with them. He put up a fight to go with them. He had argued that he should protect Aelin since he’s to take the blood oath one day. But, her father told Aedion to train with Quinn, the Captain of the Guard, and they would be back before he knew it. Aedion huffed, but did as he was told and hugged his cousin goodbye. 

~~~~ 

Maeve was sitting on her throne of stone when Aelin and her parents greeted her, her long dark hair cascading down one of her shoulders. 

“Hello, Evalin, Rhoe,” the Fae Queen purred. “And this must be little Princess Aelin. Oh, how I have heard so much about you from my spies.” Evalin and Rhoe were stiff as a board, but Aelin did small curtsey. “Come here, let me take a closer look at you.” 

Rhoe’s grasp tightened around Aelin’s hand, but Evalin gave him a sharp head shake and gently pushed Aelin forward. Aelin slowly walked forward and tried to hide her shaking hands in the folds of her skits. 

“Come, now, little Aelin, don’t be shy,” Maeve coaxed. Meave walked toward her when she stood in front of the dais. She circled Aelin like a cat on the hunt. Aelin threw a glance at her parents from over her shoulder. Their hands were clasped together and white knuckled, her mother had a contemplative look while her father had a stormy one. She could practically feel the ire coming off of him. 

“You’re a tiny thing aren’t you. How old are you, little Princess?” Maeve asked. 

“Seven,” Aelin said, her voice sounding small than she expected.  
“Seven? Yes it has been seven years. And do you have any powers, Aelin? Can you shift?” 

Aelin heard a growl come from her father but Maeve shot him a pointed look. But he could care less and  held her eye contact for longer than a person should bear. 

Aelin opened her mouth to say something when the throne room doors burst open and three very large men walked through the doors. Aelin jumped back in fright and her mother and father rushed to her side, but Meave raised her hand in warning

The three males; one dark, one golden and one silver, stalked toward the dais where Meave and Aelin where standing. 

“You summoned, Majesty,” the dark one said. All three of them were horrifyingly beautiful. The dark one was all hard lines and edges. The golden one had a softer expression when he noticed her, even with the harsh tattoo on his neck. But, the silver one, his expression was blank and with the wicked tattoo down the side of his face and on the arm and fingers, it made his features a little scary. Aelin backed up a couple steps until she right up against Meave. 

“Ah, yes. I did. But, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly,” Meave said. “Lorcan, Gavriel, and Rowan. My blood sworn.” She pointed to the dark, golden and silver male. “Rhoe, Crown Prince of Terrasen, his wife Evalin, and this,” she placed a hand on Aelin’s shoulder, “is Aelin, the little Princess.” 

Aelin was wide eyed at the males standing before he. She was terrified of what they would do, the only thing she could do was stand stick straight. The golden one, Gavriel, looked at her mother with such sadness, but stepped closer to Aelin and crouched before her. 

“Hello, princess. It is very nice to meet you,” he said holding out his hand. She stepped closer to him and placed her small hand in his and shook. It wasn’t the proper way to greet a Princess of the Realm, but a greeting nonetheless. 

“We could come back if you are busy, Majesty,” Rowan said. With his arms were crossed over his chest, he looked bored. Like, he wanted to be anywhere but here. Aelin though he looked very sad. 

“No need. Aelin was just about the show us her gift.” She motioned for her to start, but was interrupted by her mother. 

“Aunt Maeve, if it’s no trouble, could we begin tomorrow. We have had a long journey and would like some rest.” Evalin looked Meave straight in the eye. 

Meave cocked her head. “I suppose, that the little princess will be at better strengths tomorrow,” she pondered. She waved them away. “Tomorrow, then. Rowan will show you to your rooms.” 

“Come, Fireheart,” her mother crooned and Aelin ran to her. 

The warrior perked up at the nickname, but only nodded toward them and said, “this way,” and lead them down the hall to their chambers. 

~~~~

“Rowan, you are to train the little Princess,” Maeve said. After showing the Galathynius family and their guards to their chambers, Prince Rowan Whitethorn returned to Maeve’s chambers, where the rest of his cadre were already gathered. 

“Majesty, with all due respect, I have better things to do than train a child,” Rowan grumbled. 

“If Rowan won’t, I’ll do it,” piped up Fenrys. Fenrys, the one who only swore the blood oath because of the love he has for his brother. 

“Of course you want to. She’s a pretty young thing that can be molded for your doings,” snapped Lorcan. He didn’t care who he pissed off, just that he did. Fenrys bared his teeth at Lorcan, getting ready to pounce on the male. Connall grabbed his brother’s arm in silent warning. 

“You see,” Rowan interjected before things got more out of hand. He gestured to Fenrys, “He’ll be happy to train the Princess.” 

“I see that he wants to train her. But, I want you to train her.” She threw the last words at him like they were on fire. Rowan was pretty sure he would be on fire if he had to train the spoiled little Princess. 

~~~~

Rhoe, Evalin, and Aelin had just sit down for breakfast when a very loud, insistent banging on the door started up. 

“Who in the world could that be?” Evalin looked at Rhoe quizzically. 

“Wait here,” Rhoe said. He tentatively got up from the table and walked to the door. Aelin’s parents have been on edge ever since they got to their rooms the previous night. This whole journey has everyone on edge. 

There were hushed growling from the corridor and then the silver haired male, Rowan, stalked into the room. 

“Get dressed, we’re training today.” 

Aelin only gaped at him. She had barely started lessons back in Terrasen and now she was going to “train” with this male? 

“No,” Rhoe growled at him. “She is only a child. She can’t stand the grueling training you put each other through.” 

Rowan so close to her father their noses were almost touching. “Do you think I want to be doing this? Do you think I don’t have better things to do with my time than ‘train’ a spoiled little princess? My queen ordered this of me and what my queen says, I do.” 

The two of them stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime, neither one of them backing down. 

“Alright. But I’m coming with you. You will not take advantage of my daughter.” 

“Rhoe,” Evalin chastised. 

“Ev, these males will do anytime to get what they think is theirs.” 

“Rhoe, we are Maeve’s guests. We are to treat her and her warriors with respect. I know you don’t like her or trust her, but we have to follow her rules. And, if she is telling this warrior that she wants him to train Aelin, to give her lessons, then we must obey in order for this visit to be a peaceful one.” 

Aelin was still seated at the breakfast table, unsure of what to do. She looked from her parents, to the warrior with his arms crossed over his broad chest. This seems to be his favorite position. 

“Fireheart, why don’t you go get dressed,” her mother suggested. “We’ll be waiting for you when you are ready.” She nodded and hurried out the door the her room, ready to get away from the tension. 

~~~~

Aelin walked back into their rooms that night, with her father trailing behind her, bone tired and ready for bed. Her mother stood from the couch she was sitting on and walked her family. 

“How was training?” she asked. Aelin gave her a look that constituted to say, if that is what is to be expected, I’m not going back, no matter WHAT Aunt Maeve says. Rhoe gave a fairly similar look. 

“That bad?” Evalin said sheepishly. The both of them grunted. Aelin stalked into the bathing room to get all the dirt and leaves and grass from all over her body. 

Rowan had put her through hell. Trying to get her to shift into her fae form had been brutal. The only times she has ever been able to shift is when she has been scared or angry, which neither had happened today. Most the time, Rowan and her father had been yelling at each other. Rowan would do or saying something that Rhoe wouldn’t like. Then he’d yell or get in the warrior’s face and Rowan would yell back. She wouldn’t have minded the golden warrior that shook her hand yesterday to train her. He kind of reminded her of her cousin, Aedion. She really did miss her cousin. She loved her parents very much, but she wished for someone her own age to be around with. 

When she was bathed and dressed, she walked back into the common area. Gavriel was standing talking to her parents. She quickly hid behind a pillar so none of them could see her. 

“I am sorry for your loss. You see, I did love her so and wanted to express my sorrow.” 

Her mother gave him a small smile. “Thank you. It’s been years I miss her so.” 

He nodded. “Yes. I also want to apologize for my companion’s behavior.” Rhoe snorted. “You see,” Gavriel continued, “Rowan’s mate died two hundred years ago and he has never been the same. He has been cold and standoffish and won’t let anyone get close to him. I think - ” 

Aelin walked away before she could hear the rest of what he was saying. She was wondering who the woman he was talking about. And Rowan, his mate died. He was cold and heartless because he had no love in his life. When she walked into her room, she began to plan on how to make this warrior prince happy again.


	2. The Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons with Rowan begin and he is an instructor with with some harsh techniques.

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was out in a beautiful meadow, the wind in her hair, and her father and Rowan arguing behind her.

“You can NOT threaten to bite her because she does not have the ability to shift on command. She is only a child,” her father yelled.

“I can damn well do as I please,” Rowan yelled back.

“Have you ever trained a child? Has that ever occurred in your long existence?” Rhoe asked.

Aelin huffed from the rock she was perched on. She looked at the two men, the father that she loved dearly and the fae warrior she didn’t know anything about. The confession that she overheard Gavriel say last night made a lot of sense in the light of the day, but she still didn’t know how to get through to him. She was only seven and a little girl, he was centuries old and quite a bit intimidating for her to handle.

“Aelin,” Rhoe called. Her head snapped up from her daydreaming state. She looked at the both of them. From their expressions, they had been trying to get her attention for a while.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly and unfurled from the rock and strode toward them.

Her father looked concerned, but Rowan was again stone faced.

“Let’s get back to it,” he said and stalked to the middle of the field.

Aelin let out a long breath and followed after him and left her father at the outer rim of the meadow.

“Let’s try a different way since threatening _isn’t_ the way to go.” He said the last bit sarcastically. Aelin snorted in agreement.

Rowan looked at her as if to say, _watch the tone, Princess_.

Aelin only rolled her eyes. _I’ll watch mine if you watch yours_.

“Alright, Princess,” he said. “What scares you the most?” He crouched in front of her so they were on the same eye level.

She thought for a minute. “Not being in control of my magic, and hurting the people I love with it,” she said. He looked shock at the omission, not expecting that answer.

He gave her a small smile, “Maybe try something a little more tangible.”

“Drowning, not being able to breathe.” She looked up at him from lowered brows, and something on his face told her that what was to happen next was not going to be pleasant. The next thing she knew, the air had been knocked out of her lungs and she was on her knees, clawing at her throat for air. Tears began to stream down her face. She heard a muffled cry coming from the other side of the meadow and a thunder of footsteps.

Her father tackled Rowan to the ground, letting the air back into Aelin’s lungs and two of them were fighting again. Only this time they were using fists and feet and not words. Aelin was gasping for air, her lungs and throat burning from the inside, only to feel a sharp pain in her mouth and from her ears. She lifted her hands to touch her ears. They were pointy, and her sense of smell was sharper, her hearing too.

Rowan and her father stopped fighting when the hears a crunch of dry leaves from under her boots. She stood up to look around the field, nostrils flaring to smell the air around them. Despite the tang of blood in the air, this kingdom smelled wonderful, sweet and salty.

Rowan stalked up next to her, “How do you feel, princess?”

She looked up at him. “It’s a bit painful. But, everything is so much clearer.”

“Remember this feeling. Remember the pain and keen sharpness. Hone it and keep it. Practice it and you will be able to do it at will. You will no longer need to feel scared or angry and the power won’t be forced upon you, you’ll be able to call on it.”

“She’s done,” Rhoe interjected. “She is not to train with you any longer. We’re leaving this god’s damned kingdom first thing tomorrow morning.” Rhoe hauled Aelin into his arms and began carrying her back to the palace.

“Aren’t you over-reacting a bit? You’re here to have her train, to have her learn all she can about magic. Why not take advantage of it?” Rowan walked, more like prowled, alongside Rhoe.

“Because,” Rhoe snapped, “because I don’t want her to hurt or feel pain when she’s training. There’s already too much of it in the world, she doesn’t need to know it just yet.” Rowan stared at her father. Aelin stared at him too, not quite understanding what was going on.

~~~~

Rowan couldn’t get the image of Aelin in her fae form out of his head. Or when she said that her greatest fear was for her not being in control of her magic. She was a child, yes, but she seemed wise beyond her years. He has seen many princes or princesses over the years, spoiled and only caring about themselves. But this little princess, this fireheart, not only feared for her wellbeing but for others as well.

Rowan was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t see the figure in the alcove until a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. He was slammed up against the wall, Gavriel snarling in his face.

“What the rutting hell is wrong with you? You nearly killed the poor girl today.”

“She was fine,” Rowan said. “Was only trying a new tactic, that all.”

“Really, that’s all? You snuff the air out of her lungs in hopes that she is terrified enough to shift? That really took some nerve on your part, Rowan.”

“It worked though, didn’t it? And, don’t pretend that you care, Gavriel. The only reason you’re invested in that little family at all is because Aelin’s mother looks identical to your dead lover.”

Shock was strewn all over Gavriel’s face. “I care,” he said through clenched teeth, “because she is a little girl, a princess, who will one day be queen and she doesn’t need this kind of shit from you.” Gavriel pushed off the wall and stalked down the hall until he was out of sight. Rowan slid down the wall and sat in the alcove, feeling guilty as hell.

~~~~

Aelin was sitting in bed, reading one of her favorite books when there was a tentative knock on her bedroom door and then a golden head poked her head in the room.

“Aelin, you have a visitor,” her mother said, coming into her room with Rowan following close behind. Aelin sat up straighter in the bed. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it then.” Evalin walked back out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Rowan looked uncomfortable in the room. He stuffed he hands into his pockets and walked around the room until he got to the side of her bed. “What do you have there?” he asked.

“A book,” she said hesitantly. Why was he here? He never came around unless it was to take her to training. “It’s one of my favorites.” He nodded.

He was silent for a couple minutes. She couldn’t stand the silence any longer so she finally said, “I know why you’re here.” His eyes shot to hers. “I know you’re here to apologize but you don’t do it often so you’re trying to find the words to do so.” He came closer and sat on the edge of her bed. She shrugged. “I forgave you when you asked me how I was.”

“How can you forgive that easily?”

“Like you told my father, I’m here to train and will do what needs to be done,” she said. She looked at him. His eyes seem softer than they had the other day in the throne room. They were pale green, they reminded her of the rolling hills outside the palace in Orynth.

Rowan gave a small laugh. “You are something else, Princess.” Aelin giggled.

They were silent once more, but it was a comfortable silence. She climbed out from underneath the covers and sat next to him. She put her small arms around his waist, trying the be comforting. At first he stiffened, but then relaxed and out an arm around her. She felt strangely at peace sitting next to him like this.

~~~~

They didn’t leave the next day like her father threatened. They stayed for another two weeks and they worked on her shifting. They didn’t touch her fire, and her shifting was still spotty. But, he father got used to the Rowan and they didn’t argue as much when training only because he wasn’t as cruel and his training wasn’t as demanding. But when they did leave, Rowan was at the docks to say his farewell.

“Will you write to me?” She asked the warrior.

“Possibly,” he said. She glowered at him and poked him in the chest. He laughed quietly. “You have been a thorn in my side, Princess. But, yes, I will write when it is possible.”

She beamed at him and threw her arms around him. He looked over the little princess’s shoulder to her parents a few feet away. Rhoe met his eyes and nodded to him. They had worked out a tentative truce. He might not trust Maeve, but he was beginning to trust him, at least where Aelin come in.

Aelin surprised Rowan and gave him a small peck on the cheek and ran to her parents. When she turned around, she had a smirk on her face and her eyes held mischief. They bounded up the steps to the ship. Her small form waving at him from the deck. He waved back.

As the ship departed, he shifted into his hawk and flew overhead. Aelin reached out a hand and the tip of his wing touched the tip of her finger.

“Bye Rowan. I’ll miss you!” she called out to him. She was on her way home.

~~~~

Over the next year and a half, Rowan and Aelin sent each other letters. She would tell him about the books she was reading and the training she was getting. In one letter she said, _“the trainers here a lot nicer in their teachings, but it’s not as much fun.”_ His letters are quite a bit shorter since he can’t tell her about the campaigns he goes on for Maeve. She’s too young to understand what goes on there. Plus, it’s not something a young girl will want to hear about.

After coming back from a campaign from a far away kingdom, one of Aelin’s letters was laying on his desk. She wrote, “ _Dear Rowan, My fire is scaring me. I almost hurt the King of Ardalan with it while he was visiting. Mother and Father are taking me to our house out in the country for some peace. I hope with the quiet, my fire will calm down. Please write soon, I miss my friend. Aelin.”_

She had been worried about her fire hurting someone, and now it almost did. His thoughts were interrupted by Gavriel and Fenrys barging into his room.

Rowan looked into the male’s eyes and knew something was horribly wrong. “What is it?”

“It’s the Galathynius family. They’re all dead - murdered,” Gavriel breathed.

Fenrys added, “Orlon was found in his bed in Orynth, Evalin and Rhoe in their country home on the River Florine.”

He looked at his two companions, horror in their eyes. He had a feeling the look was mirrored on his own. “And Aelin?” Fenrys open his mouth then closed it. Gavriel looked away. “Somebody had better gods damn tell!” Rowan screamed.

“Aelin,” Fenrys began, trying to find the words. “Aelin’s body was never found, but there are claims that she drowned in the river.”

Rowan didn’t have any words for what he was feeling. First Lyria and now Aelin. She was just a little girl, a princess never to be queen. The day, early on, she had said that she feared drowning and not being able to breathe.

Rowan, still holding the letter from Aelin, crumbled it into a ball and threw it into the fire. Without looking at his companions, his friends, stalked out of his room, out of the palace. He shift pence he got past the gates. He was going to find the little Princess of Terrasen. Rowan Whitethorn took to the skies and didn't look back.


	3. The Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowan goes searching for Aelin after he finds out about what has happened to her family. His search uncovers some interesting details.

Rowan Whitethorn flew long and hard. He flew over the stone houses of Dorenelle and soared across the continent of Wendlyn. He flew over the ocean; and when his magic couldn’t take it anymore, he trekked across Oakwald Forest – the forest of the Fae – all the way to Terrassen where something has happened to little Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.  
Rowan thought that if – no, when he found the Princess, he would take her far, far away from this place. She was so small, so fragile, but she was brave and strong. She was a fighter and she would make it out of this.

~~~~

It took Rowan a week to get all the way out of Oakwald Forest and to the Florine River. From there, he traveled along the coast all the way up to the Galathynius Estate along the River.

From the outside, the house looked like nothing was amiss. Rowan unsheathed the blade from his side and slowly made his way up the path, through the garden and to the front door. Rowan briefly hesitated before gently pushing the door open. He took a tentative step inside, and stopped dead in his tracks. Their estate was trashed; wooden tables were cut into pieces, glass fragments were all over the floor, and blood. There was so much blood – on the floor, all over the walls, on the staircase. Just by standing in the doorway Rowan could see that it had been a massacre and no one could have possibly survived this. He prayed to the gods that somehow Aelin made it out of here safely.  
He stalked around the house, looking for any sign of life. But, there was none. All the servants were so bloodied up that Rowan couldn’t tell what the death blow was. Some he could see their throats were cut open, some had their skulls bashed in, some had their innards spilling from their guts, but with others it was difficult to tell.  
Rowan walked up the staircases to the second floor, checking all the bedrooms for the little Princess. When he walked into the largest of the rooms, he just stood in the doorway, looking at the two bodies on the bed. Crown Prince Rhoe Galathynius and his wife, Evalin Ashryver Galathynius, both of Aelin’s parents dead. The entire bed was covered in their blood. He walked towards the bed, each step was placed carefully not to step on – or in – anything. On closer inspection of the bed, there was an indent between the two corpses and small bloody handprints on the sheets. He sucked in a breath when he saw the hand prints – her hand prints. Now he really had to find her, not only to see if she was alive, but just for himself. To know that she was out there.

He looked around around the remaining rooms upstairs, but found nothing amiss besides a rumpled bed, which he figured was Aelin’s. He went back downstairs to do one last search.

When he came to the kitchen, he could smell Aelin’s scent lingering but it was faint. The back door was thrown wide open. By the looks of it, someone must have been in a hurry. Possibly Aelin, or more probably, her killer. The petite woman was lying prostrate on the floor with her head severed from her body. He gingerly turned her over, making sure to be careful and not to disturb her body too much. There were nicks and cuts all over her chest and upper arms. Her fingernails were sharp and had blood and tissue on the tips. She also gash on the inside of her palm, like she grabbed hold of a knife or a sword. Whoever this woman was, despite her size, she was tough and she wasn’t going down without a fight. Rowan set down the woman’s hand, got to his feet and rushed through the back door, leaving the brutalized house behind him.

Rowan was couldn’t get ahold of what he was feeling. He felt dead inside. He might not have liked Aelin’s father, Rhoe, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve to die. He was the crown prince for god’s sake. And now that King Orlon was dead, that meant that Aelin was queen. He hoped that she was still alive for her the be queen.

When Rowan looked out across the grassy plains, he took in the vastness, the clear blue skies, the footprints on the ground, the wooden posts in the the distance. Wait - the footprints. He crouched on the back of his heels to get a closer look at the prints. Small prints, in a straight line towards - he couldn’t tell but it looked like the small footprints headed straight towards the wooden posts. There was a second set of prints - hooves. A horse. And it was following the small footprints, Aelin’s footprints. Rowan has never felt so much fear for his little princess than he did at that moment. He ran for the posts at the other end of the clearing. _“Please don’t be there, please don’t be there,”_ he thought over and over again. Praying to any god that would listen that his princess would still be alive. He got to the wooden posts. From the house he couldn’t tell, but now up close he could see that the posts would have held a cross bridge to the other side. Because on the other side was a barn. Aelin could have been headed there to hide out to wait for her court. But now, the bridge that was once there no longer stood. Rowan held on to one of the posts and looked over the edge. There. Down in the revinge, was the remnants of the bridge, now just pieces of wood.  

Rowan let out a frustrating cry. With one last look around the estate and the surrounding area, he took to the skies once again.

~~~~

Rowan never stopped searching. He didn’t know where his princess could have gone. He had spent the last three months flying, searching, never quitting. But it was like she just disappeared. He flew across Adarland, through Fenharrow, above Melisande and stopping in Eyllwe. There was no denying that she was out there, but it was just going to take time to find her.

But Rowan’s quest was put to an abrupt stop when Lorcan found him on the outskirts of a small fishing port in Fenharrow.

“Rowan,” his commander called from the other side of the dock he was sitting on. He has been in Fenharrow the past day and a half and still no sign of his Fireheart. He lifted his head in acknowledgement that he heard Lorcan but didn’t do more than that. He staying on the dock, feet dangling over the edge into the water. He was so drained, not just physically but mentally and magically as well. He was so tired from searching. But, he wouldn’t stop until she was found. No matter if he saw her again or if she was a corpse. He wanted to know what happened to her.

“Rowan, this has to stop,” Lorcan said. His voice was gruff and it gave off a stern warning. As if saying, _pull your shit together and let’s get back to business as usual._

Rowan merely just shook his head. “No. I can’t. She’s out there and I have to find her. I owe her that much.”

“No, you don’t,” Lorcan bit back. “You trained her for what? A few weeks? You barely know the girl. You are blood sworn to Maeve and you need to come back and serve your queen.”

Rowan snarled at Lorcan.

“Look, Rowan,” Lorcan said gently, which by the way, this Fae male did nothing gently. “She’s dead and there is no royal family left. You are just going to have to accept it.”

“She’s out there, Lorcan. Everyone in this gods forsaken world thinks the entire Galathynius line has been wiped out by the King of Adarland. She might have been killed along with them, who the hell knows. But, I am going to the ends of the earth to find her, no matter the cost.”

Lorcan’s eyes softened just barely. “Well, you are going to have to do it on your own time. Because Maeve needs us to go on campaign across the sea. Vaughn is meeting us there.”  
Rowan didn’t move from his perch on the dock. Lorcan huffed a long stream of curses. “Okay, this can go one of two ways. One, you can stand your ass up and go on this campaign and then once we’re done you can continue your search for you pretty little princess.” He said the last three words with such contempt. “Or two, I drag your carcass off this gods forsaken dock and Maeve will hear all about your hunting for your princess and gods know what she’ll do to you then.”

Rowan growled but recently got up and followed Lorcan out of Fenharrow.

~~~~

Over the years, when Maeve didn’t have him doing her dirty work, he continued to search for Aelin. It became a little more difficult to search in Erilea due to the lack of magic. But was still unable to find her with no luck. She must have been truly dead, taken over by the river, never to be seen again. Like all the chronicles have said, she died on the river. But, Rowan has never believed anything the papers have said and a body was never discovered. Her life would be too precious. But, maybe it was time put away these fanciful notions that the princess was still alive. There has been no proof that she was still alive. Eventually, Rowan stopped looking for his princess altogether. And when he gave up his hope, he gave up his will.

~~~~

Rowan stormed into the Queen’s throne room one afternoon. He and Gavriel had just arrived from doing her business in a far away kingdom and needed to bathe, desperately. But no, her Majesty summoned him here just to piss him off. Meave was perched on her stone throne wearing a lavish red gown to set off her dark hair. She flaunted her beauty every time she had a chance.

“Rowan,” she purred. “I see you just newly arrived. How was the conquest?”

“Just fine, Your Majesty,” he bit back. “No problems at all.”

“Good. You leave again tomorrow for another mission.”

Rowan blinked. “But Maeve, I need to to rest -”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Oh, Rowan. You didn’t think I knew of your obsession with finding your pretty, pretty princess? Please.” She crossed her legs. She had better things to do than tell him what needed to be done. “Tomorrow you are to get on a ship to the continent of Erilea, you should be fairly familiar with by now.”  
Rowan groaned inwardly. “And what is it that I am to be doing there, my Queen?”

“I need you to find someone by the name of Celaena Sardothien. There is not much on her, but word has it that she is a notorious assassin and I want you to find out all you know about her.”

“Can’t one of your spies do it for you? You have many on the continent. This isn’t much of a job for one of your warriors. Or maybe Fenrys, he’s due to get out of the castle for a while.”

“You said something similar to me when I told you to train Aelin Galathynius.” He flinched. Just the mention of her sent a pain down his spine. Her loss has taken a toll on him. “And besides, I have Fenrys busy doing other things.” In other words, he was servicing her in a more intimate setting. “But you’re still going. You might something very interesting about this _Celaena_.”

Rowan gave her a quizzical look and stalked right back out of the room.

~~~~

Rowan never thought he would be headed to this continent again, but here he was again. This time he had to sail for two weeks. Two weeks to brood over Maeve’s task. _Find Celaena Sardothien._ Who the rutting hell was this Celaena Sardothien? From the name itself, one can deduce that this person was a woman, whoever she was. She has been spotted in Fenharrow, Melisande and Adarland in a dark mask, black clothing and and black cloak. She shows no skin, so her ethnicity is unknown. Rowan had no idea where to start his search. It felt oddly familiar. But instead of looking for a dead princess, he was looking for a ghost. But he would start in the place with the highest death toll from her.

When he arrived in Rifthold, the capital city of Adarland, it was cold and wet. The rain left the cobblestone streets slick. Now that he was here, Rowan had to begin his search. If there was still magic in these lands, he would take to the skies and soak above the city to get a feel. But as it stands, he’d have to search the city the old fashioned way, on rooftops.  
He was all over the city, the financial district, the wealthy district, the fashion district. It was finally in the slums where he caught sight of a black clad figure perched on a nearby rooftop. This might not be her, but it also might be. The figure’s back was turned toward him and whoever they were, they were scouring the streets below. If they had a target, they were only watching, tracking, getting to know this person’s schedule.

Hours later, the figure grew tired of waiting and began running across the rooftops. Without hesitation, Rowan followed. With the wind blowing their cloak about, he caught a whiff of their scent. If was vaguely familiar but also a bit foreign, he couldn't place it. But he followed this person all the way to the wealthy district. They jumped down from a rooftop and walked the streets. They slowed upon coming up to a posh street and walked or more likely stalked into the house. Rowan stayed on the roof of the house next door, but it was already occupied by what looked a guard of some sort. Rowan unsheathed his sword as soundlessly as he could and took a tentative step towards the stranger. Rowan raised his sword above his and slammed the hilt down upon the man’s head, knocking him out. Rowan chuckled softly.

Looking back to the house, he couldn’t see where the stranger went but figured it must have been an upstairs bedroom. Just as he thought it, a figure, the same figure came into view in the middle window. Once they closed the door to the bedroom, they yanked off their gloves, threw back the hood on their cloak, untied the mask from their face and -  
Rowan had no words. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Were they playing tricks on him? She was definitely older. Maybe about fourteen or fifteen years old now. She was no longer a child anymore, but teenager, a young woman. No wonder her scent smelt familiar, he was smelling Aelin, an older version of her but Aelin nonetheless. Whoever this Celaena Sardothien was could wait. He found his princess, his _fireheart_ , and this time he would not let her go.


	4. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowan has finally found Aelin, but she is not the Princess he thought he would find.

The assassin Celaena Sardothien, formally known as Aelin Galathynius, the Princess of Terresan, was exhausted. She had just come home from a grueling day on the rooftops in the slums and to top it off it had rained and she was soaked. Her target had stayed in that gods forsaken tavern all day long. He hadn’t come out once. Not like she was going to take him out in the light of day, but what is the point of trailing when he stays in one place? And what kind of man was he if wealthy businessman was gracing his presence in a tavern in the slums. It shows what kind of company he keeps. Not the respectable kind, that’s for sure.

But right now, she needed a bath. A hot one. She was freezing to her bones and only a hot bath would do the trick. She stripped out of her wet sodden clothes to nothing but her skin and headed to the bathing room. She lit a pine scented candle that reminded her of her home, of Terrasan. She climbed into the giant clawfoot tub and relaxed. She let her muscles and her joints relax until they weren’t aching anymore. She finally got out when her fingers and toes were a wrinkled mess.

It was no longer raining, and she wanted to do some shopping. She needed new books to read. She hadn’t gotten any new books in a while and was tired of reread the same books over and over again, even though she loved them dearly. She changed into a simple blue tunic with gold trim, brown pants and boots. She grabbed a clean cloak from her closet and headed back outside.

“And, where do you think you’re going?” Arobynn Hamel, King of the Assassins and her master called from his study.

“Out,” she hollered right back. But before she could go any further Wesley, Arobynn’s bodyguard, stepped in front of her. She groaned, rolled her eyes and turned around to face her master as he stalked out of his study.

“But you only just got back, Celaena,” he purred.

“I only needed a change of clothes. I’ll be back tonight,” she said. Celaena went to sidestep Wesley but he stepped in front of her to keep her from going. She rolled her eyes, again. “What do you want, Arobynn?”

“I only want to know how my little protege is doing.”

“I’m doing just fine,” Celaena said dryly. “Now let me pass, there are things I need to get done.”

Arobynn nodded to Wesley and he let her go. She was out of the Assassin’s Keep in a flash.

~~~~

Rowan Whitethorn was still sitting on the roof across from the massive house that Aelin was now vacating. She had only gone into the house an hour before and now she was back out. She could be back out for a numerous amount of reasons, but she was no longer in that god awful black. She was now wearing light colors and her golden hair was flowing behind her, no longer in the braid. Was a block away when Rowan jumped down from the building and followed her into the streets of Rifthold.

~~~~

She was being followed. She didn’t know by who, but she felt eyes on her. She walked into her favorite bookshop to see if she could figure out who was tailing her, and maybe get some answers from them in the process. The familiar scent of leather and paper and ink comforted her, made her feel at home. She ran the tips of her fingers over the spines of the books, looking for which ones to purchase. Then, she heard a rustling from a few rows back. She unsheathed a dagger and went to investigate the noise. She tiptoed to the first row of books, no one was there. She checked the next, again nothing. She silently stalked up to the next row, and froze. The broad shoulders, the tanned skin, the silver hair, and that tattoo -

She quickly hid behind a stack of books before he could see her. Gods, it had been eight years since she had last seen the warrior she had called friend, who helped he learn to shift, to help her not be afraid of her Fae heritage. But, after everything that had happened to her, to her family, to her court, she didn’t know she could see him again. She still white knuckled the dagger by her side when Rowan came into her sight. His eyes were wide and lined with silver.

“Aelin,” he breathed. There was so much pain in that one word, that name. That gods forsaken name that damned everything to pieces.

She turned her head to face him fully. That harsh face, so handsome and so pained. Her heart sped up, she felt her chest tighten, she felt her airways close up. She couldn’t breathe. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t face him, not after everything that had happened. She looked at Rowan one more time before running out of the store.

~~~~

“Aelin!” He called after her. She had to get out, she had to get away. How did he find her? In the days after everything, she had hoped he would come for her. She had prayed to the gods her friend, her warrior would come for her. Instead the strange auburn haired man took her in an taught her how to be a killer, how to torment and maime, how to be death itself. She ran as far and as fast as she could from the little bookshop as she possibly could. Rowan would be ashamed of what she’d become. She’d had to in order to survive. As she ran down the street, she knocked into pedestrians as she went, not caring who she hurt in the process. Someone grabbed ahold of her arm and pulled her down an alley.

“Aelin,” Rowan said, holding onto her. She tried pulling from his grip. His hands were still huge, she remembered how they engulfed her tiny fingers when she was seven.

“Aelin,” he said a bit more forcefully. She swung at him with her free hand. She nearly clocked him in the nose but he moved just fast enough to swing up at air. He grabbed her other hand and slammed her into the stone wall behind them.

“Aelin, stop!”

Celaena snarled at him. “Don’t call me that.”

Rowan smirked. “But, that’s your name.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Not anymore. I stopped being Aelin a long time ago.”

Rowan frowned. “So, what DO you go by now?”

“Celaena,” she said flatly. “Celaena Sardothien.”

His eyes widened in astonishment. Then he barked out a harsh laugh. “You can’t be serious?” He looked her up and down. “You? You’re Celaena Sardothien?”

She sneered at him. “Of course I’m serious.” She tried pulling away from him again. Rowan’s grip on her tightened. “I haven’t become Adarland’s Assassin for nothing.”

Rowan snorted. “You’re what? Thirteen? Fourteen years old?”

Celaena straightened. “Fifteen. You don’t become the best from just sitting around. You should know that.”

If looks could kill, then Celaena would dead from the look Rowan gave her. “What happened to you Aelin? You were a kind little girl.”

She bared her teeth at him. “When your loved one are lying dead around you, it changes something in you. The little Princess you knew died that day. She will never be coming back.”

Rowan loosened his grip, she pulled her arms away and pushed him off of her. He was all muscle so she knew he let her get away.

She was halfway down the alley when Rowan called out to her. “Aelin, I’m sorry.”

Her back stiffened and she whirled around to face him. “Sorry? You’re sorry? I need you, Rowan. For years I needed you. But you weren’t there. You never came for me.”  
Rowan’s face went red with anger. “I searched for you. You disappeared, Aelin. You were gone. You were there one day and gone the next. I looked everywhere for you.”

“Obviously, not hard enough.” Celaena turned back around and stormed out of the alley.

~~~~

She was Celaena Sardothien. _SHE_ was Celaena Sardothien. Rowan couldn’t wrap his mind around it all. Aelin went from being a pampered princess to one of the deadliest assassin in all of Adarland, possibly all of Erelia.

The princess that had once wrapped her small arms around his waist was not the same girl he had found in that alley. She was a different person altogether.

Rowan went in search for an inn to get some rest. Gods knew he was exhausted.  
From the sea travel and from following Aelin all afternoon and finally the confrontation in the alley left him feeling drained. He needed to sleep, desperately. He would sleep and then he would go out and track her down again tomorrow. Her scent was ingrained into him now. He wouldn’t be able to get it out of his nose every again. He didn’t know how he could have forgotten it, with all those years of searching, of sniffing out every possible inch of that manor house.

But, he didn’t know how to deal with this new Aelin. He didn’t know what he would find when he went to find her all those years ago, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. Would he have gone on his search when this is what she would have become? Yes, he would have. He would have still looked for her, he owed it to her. No matter what.

He would get through to her. He would help her heal. No matter how long it took. With Lyria, he had to do it by himself, he still wasn’t completely healed from her loss. But he would help Aelin. And he would be there, however much time she needed.

~~~~

Celaena never purchased any books. She was took shocked at the sight of Rowan that she ran away from him in the store. Then too pissed at him in the alley to be civilized around patrons and shopkeepers, so she went back to the Keep and locked herself in the music room.

She discarded her cloak on a nearby chair and plopped down onto the bench in front of the piano forte. She ran fingers over the ivory keys. Not knowing what to play but just want to be near the giant instrument, she plunked out a simple melody on one hand. Soon she added her other hand and the music just poured out of her soul. All she had been feeling over seeing Rowan and from her calling her by her given name again. All those emotion pooling at her fingertips and into the piano forte. When she had finished playing the piece she hadn’t realized that tears were streaming down her face until someone from behind her had said, “who would have known that something so beautiful could come from you.”

She frantically wiped her tears off of her face. “Go to hell, Sam. I’m not in the mood.” She got up from the bench, grabbed her cloak from the chair, and stalked out of the room, hitting Sam’s shoulder with hers on the way out.

“What’s your problem, Celaena?” he called

“You’re my problem, Sam, ” she called back, walking backward towards her room down the hall. He shouldn’t have come into the music room like he did. He knew it was probably her only sanctuary, besides her room, in this whole house. Her emotions were on overdrive since seeing Rowan. She needed to get away. From him, from everyone.

Sam started following after her. “Why do you do this? You think you’re better than the rest of us.”

She stormed into her room. Turning around towards Sam, she said, “That’s because I am better than you. If I weren’t, you’d be Arobynn’s heir, not me.” And she slammed the door in his face.”

She had so much pent up rage and anger, she stormed over to her bed, grabbed an oversized pillow, and screamed into it. Her blood felt like it was boiling beneath her skin. With everything that has happened today, she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. Rowan, he’d been the tipping point. If he hadn’t shown up like he did, she would’ve had a nice evening in town. Would have bought the books she ventured out for, maybe even some chocolate from her favorite store. But, Rowan showed up disrupting all her plans. It was a shock to see him in the bookstore, and also terror. To see him, for him to see what she had become. She was not the princess she had been, the little girl who loved freely and trusted openly. Now she was guarded and held her emotions at arm's length.

But for tonight, she needed sleep. She was drained from her encounters with Rowan and with Sam. Tomorrow would be another day. She would start out fresh tomorrow.


	5. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Celaena finds Rowan following her, she decides to have some choice words with him.

It has been a week, a week since Celaena has spoken to Rowan. They haven’t spoken since the heated argument in the bookstore alley. But she sure as hell has seen the warrior. Everywhere she goes he is not that far behind. Tonight, she was up in the rafters of the Royal Theatre. She had just finished a job. It had been quick and clean, but she needed some time to herself before going back to the Keep. But, there he was, squatting on a beam in the corner. She knew he was there stalking her, because that was the only way to explain his constant eye on her every movement. She was really hoping to enjoy the music. The highs and the lows and the dips each note made, creating a story of its own. But now, she would have to talk to the brooding warrior, if only to find out why he kept following her. Celaena got up from her perch leaving the wondrous music behind, balanced on the beam, and made her way out through the small window, down the building, and onto the street. 

She was waiting in the shadows of the theatre when Rowan emerged, hood pulled over his silver hair to cover up his tattoos as much as possible. 

“Hello, Prince,” Celaena said. Rowan whipped his head at her, surprise on that harsh face. Apparently, he hadn’t realized that she might figure out that he was following her. She jerked her head for Rowan to follow her down the quiet street.

~~~~

Gods be damned this princess turned assassin. Aelin, or Celaena, or whatever the hell she calls herself nowadays was leading him in a gods damned circle. Rowan bet it was just to piss him off, which it was. He hadn’t expected her to acknowledge him, but he had a feeling she knew he was following her. He hadn’t exactly been inconspicuous. But now the haughty princess was leading him around this gods forsaken city. She even threw him a mischievous look over her shoulder. He kept his features stoney, but his eyes bore into her back when she turned back around. She even had the nerve to snicker at him.

Well, that did it. Rowan quickened his steps and went to grab Aelin’s wrist, to stop this whole charade, but as if sensing what he was about to do, she sidestepped him and continued on her way. Rowan silently cursed at her back. They were going to have a conversation, but it seemed like they were only going to have it on her terms.

She finally stopped in front of a warehouse in the slums of the city. Whatever this place was, they were finally going to talk. He wasn’t sure if it would be pleasant. Aelin undid the latch and pushed open door on squeaky wheels. There were boxes and crates all over the large room. Aelin gestured for Rowan to go inside before pushing the large door closed behind her. Rowan walked towards the middle of the room with Aelin following close behind him.

“What is this place?” he asked.

Aelin took a deep breath. “It's a warehouse, obviously.” Rowan snorted and Aelin smirked at him. “It used to house ink and paper and such. There’s also a small apartment on the second floor.” She walked around, lightly touching each crate as she passed. “I’ve had my eye on this place for the last year. When I get enough money to buy it, and when I don’t have to pay be Arobynn anymore, it’ll be mine.”

Rowan grunted and gave her a quizzical look as if to say, Am I supposed to know who the hell this Arobynn is?

She shot him back a look that said, You’ve been following me for the past week. You sure as hell should know who Arobynn is. But she ended up saying, “You’re a male of few words and many growls, Prince.” To only further her point, he snarled at her. She let out a breathy laugh, “Well, if you must know, Arobynn is my master and he is the one who saved me from the Florine River that night so many years ago.”

Rowan went utterly still. The silence that rolled through them could be sliced with a knife. Neither of them moved. He couldn’t think about how hadn’t made it in time to save the little princess, his princess. Before he could say anything, she went on.

“Anyways, from all the training from Arobynn, I have to pay him back before I can truly be free.” She looked so sad in that moment. Rowan couldn’t help it, he reached out a hand to touch her, but he pulled his hand back at the last moment.

“How much do you have to pay off?” he asked.

“Oh, quite a bit,” she said flatly. An easy silence fell over them, neither of them knowing what to say after that.

Aelin was the one who finally spoke up. “Why are you still here, Rowan?” Her eyes bore a hole through him. “You found me, you know what I have become.” Her voice broke and she had to look away. “So, what keeps you here?”

He hated the words that had to come from him mouth, but he had the voice them. “I have … orders, from my Queen. To keep an eye on you and your movements.”

She scoffed. “Queen Maeve has never cared about what I do or have done. She didn’t care about Terrassen seven years ago, why should it make a difference now?” He could feel the anger roil off of her. The gold ring in her turquoise gaze turned molten. Like the fire that burned in her so long ago, was coming through in her eyes.

“She didn’t ask me to follow your movements, Aelin.”

“My name is Celaena,” Aelin growled through gritted teeth.

“No, it’s not. But, that’s beside the point.” She started to say something else, but he held up a hand. “She asked me to follow the assassin’s movements, not the long lost princess’.”

She was seething. Her beautiful face turned a bright red. “Why the rutting hell does she want to know what I do with my life. She’s never cared a damn about me or my family before. Why is she starting all of a sudden now?”

“She probably didn’t know you were Celaena Sardothien,” Rowan said. Aelin clearly   didn’t believe from the noise she let out deep in her throat. He continued, ignoring Aelin, “A new player in the realm popped into existence and she wanted to know more about them, about you.”

“And what? She sent her most trusted warrior to do what her spies can?”

Rowan had said words so similar to Maeve all those weeks ago. He snarled at her, even if her words were true. “Don’t try to know what’s going on.”

“And you don’t get to pretend that everything can go back to the way things were before Terrassen fell.” Her voice continuously raises, getting louder and louder with each word. “It will never be the same. I will never be the same. That little princess that you desperately wish for, the sweet, gentle little girl who cared about the people, about you, is gone. She is never, never coming back.”

Rowan flinched. He looked at Aelin, really looked at her. Tears were streaming down her face. She hastily wiped them away, her emotions getting the best of her.

“I have to go.” She headed towards the warehouse door and pushed it open with a grunt.

“Where?”

“I –,” she began, looking back at him with such sorrow in her eyes. She started again, “It’s too hard being here, being around. You’re a memory that is haunting me, and I have to get away.” And with that, she was gone.

~~~~

Celaena didn’t know what had just happened. One minute, she was fine, content. The next, she was yelling and crying. At Rowan. Gods, things had taken a turn for the worse. The one person who still cared for her from her previous life, she pushed away.

She ran from the warehouse and down the quiet, dark street. She ran fast and she ran hard. She climbed up a building and was flying across the rooftops. And just as fast, she was back on street level.

Though she was running, her mind wandered. Everything from the past seven years came rushing at her. Her parent’s throats slit open, lying in her parents blood all night, Lady Marin. The frozen river, a red haired assassin finding her, a house full of killers, daggers thrust into her hands, a rivalry between her and Sam. Training, training, training. Poisons, and blood, and broken limbs and scars and killing, killing, killing –

She tripped and stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. She had been so focused on her thoughts and memories that she hadn’t seen. She cursed colorfully over the tear in her pants and the blood soaking through them from the fall. Celaena crumpled in on herself. Laying her forehead on the concrete, she let out a scream coated with frustration and anger and sadness. Such sorrow for what her family went through, for what she went through. 

She heard heavy footsteps approaching. She didn’t care who it was at this point, it could be the King for all she cared, she didn’t move. She stayed on her knees with her head to the ground, tears continuing to stream down her face. She hated herself for feeling this way. She hated the tears and the bloody knee and the scraped hand. 

The figure got closer and she looked to see large black boots and felt and arm go around her middle. She panicked for a second until she was in his arm and staring at silver hair and a tattooed face. 

Rowan lifted his own scarred hand and rested it on her cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb. “You don’t get to run away from your past,” he said. 

“Like you have been,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the screaming. 

He gave her a sour look that said, This isn’t about me and you know it. Celaena only nodded. 

“Alright,” he said matter of factly. He started walking down the street. “You’re staying with me tonight.” Celaena began to protest, but he cut her off. “You are in no shape to go back to that hell hole of a place and I need to clean you up.” Celaena looked into his pine green eyes and nodded again, not being about to say anything else. She laid her head on his shoulder and let lull of his steps calm and sooth her. 

~~~~

Back in his room, Rowan set Aelin down on his bed gently. 

“I’m not some doll that can be broken,” she protest. 

“No,” he sighs. “But, you took a hard fall and the wound could be infected.” 

She glared at him. “It’s not.” 

She’s right, it’s not. Too soon to be infected, but he still wanted to clean her up. He walked into the connected bathing room and brought out a wet and dry cloth, soap, a bucket of water and torn strips of linens. 

“Take off your pants,” he said. 

Aelin’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Excuse me?”

“Aelin,” he groaned. She crossed her arms. He took a deep breath. “Aelin, I need so either you take off your pants, or I do it for you.” 

Her eyes gleamed with mischief. There was a blush creeping up her neck. “Is that so, Prince?” she purred. He could feel his own cheeks redden, but he would not back down. 

She ended up pulling out a knife that was hidden inside her boot and cutting the material away from just above the knee. She set the knife down on the bedside table, pulled off her boots and leaned back on the absorbent amount of pillows. 

When she was situated, Rowan got to work, cleaning off the bloody knee and wrapping it up. There was an easy silence between them while he worked. 

“Where’d you get the tattoo?” she asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“That’s a long story and one I’m not comfortable talking about with you,” he said, finishing up the wrappings on her leg. He gestured for her hands.

She tisked at him, but moved closer to him, giving him her hands, palms up. “You know my whole bloody history, why can’t I know some of yours?” 

He sighed. “You’ve been through enough tonight. It’s not the right time to tell you.” He ran a hand over the scrapes, assessing. She winced at his touch. He took the dry cloth and dunked it in the water and began the same process of cleaning her hands. They were so scarred for her only being fifteen. 

“Fine. Tell me, don’t tell me,” she bit out. 

Rowan’s touch went from tender and welcoming to ruff. He grabbed hold of her wrist and tugged her forward. They were only a hair’s breadth away from each other. He could smell her scent of lavender and jasmine and … another scent. One where he had scented before, on Lyria that day in the market. His eyes widened and he dropped Aelin’s wrist. His calm composure went as taught as a bow string. 

Even Aelin noticed the change in his demeanor. “I didn’t mean it. You can tell me or not. I just wanted to talk.” 

Rowan nodded and continued wrapping her hand. When he was done, he took the dirty rags into the bathing room went to gather up the supplies. 

“Let me help you,” Aelin said. 

“No,” he said sharply, then noticed the hurt on her face. “No, it’s fine,” he said to her more gently. “You just need to rest.” 

“I’ve gotten worse wounds than this,” she shot back. He let out a breathy chuckle. 

~~~~

When he came back into the room, he was hold a clean white shirt. “You can sleep in this for tonight. It might be big, but it’s better than the mess you have on.” 

She gave him a withering smile. “Thought you wanted me to rest.” 

“Just put it on.” He let out a long sigh. 

“Turn around then.” She gave him a hard look. “I’m not undressing with you staring.” He turned around, but she noticed how tense he was. How straight he stood. 

When she finished dressing, she got into bed, too tired to do anything else but sleep. He turned around when there was no more rustling from her. He looked how she felt, drained and tired and worn down. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” she asked. 

“I’ll be on the floor.”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s cold. Just sleep in the bed. There’s enough room where we won’t have to touch.” To make her point, she moved closer to the edge. 

He only shook his head. “Princess,” he began. 

She cut him off. “I’m not a princess anymore, so stop calling me that. Just get in the damn bed, it’s late.” 

He sighed. Defeated by a fifteen year old, he got into bed, and they both fell asleep, not touching once.


	6. The Slip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Rowan cleans up Aelin from her breakdown and Rowan tries to get Aelin to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted the story to go. I finally figured it out, but this chapter is really only a place holder for the next chapter. It's also a little shorter the the rest of the chapters, also sorry for that too.

Rowan Whitethorn woke before the sun was up. It was still dark in his little room in the inn when he finally dained to open his eyes. He watched the shadows dance across the ceiling as he lay on his back. He surveyed the room. There were no intruders that he could sense. He heard hard, steady breathing coming from beside him. He slowly turned his head to look at the assassin princess laying next to him. For the briefest of seconds, he forgot that she had stayed in his bed last night. No matter that they didn’t touch at all, but she had slept in his bed. The princess that he spent almost a decade looking for and the assassin who has gotten on his every nerve the past week. But the girl was hurt and he wasn’t about to let her back into that house of killers for having a breakdown in the middle of the street in the slums. 

He looked more closely at her. Aelin was laying on her side, facing him. Her features, normally set in a perpetual scowl, were softened by sleep. Her hair was fanned out on her pillow like a golden arch. Her bare, injured leg was thrown over the blanket. Her small frame was swallowed up by his shirt. Something primal in the pit of his stomach tightened at the thought. 

She was only fifteen years old but, he felt their souls connected somehow. Maybe from all those years of searching for her, or from being friends with the little princess all those years ago when she visited Dorenelle. But, he felt that she was something more to him that he didn’t want to fully accept, not when it was the same scent when he first saw Lyria in the market. The mating bond. Rowan didn’t how how it was possible, as one was only supposed to have one mate their entire existence. He wouldn’t think about it now, not when Aelin was in such a bad place, they both were. 

Rowan sat up on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and stood up. Aelin shift in the bed and he froze. She tried to turn over, but her leg got tangled up in the blankets. She scowled even in sleep and pushed the blankets away from her feet, successfully turning over. Rowan chuckled to himself and strode to the closet to get dressed. 

When he came back out of the closet, armed to the teeth, she was awake and sitting up in bed. “You’re up,” he said matter of factly. 

Aelin smirked at him. “Vert perceptive, Prince.” Rowan scowled at her, her smirk turning into a grin. But, her grin fell as she looked out the window of the small inn. “I should be going,” she whispered as if someone was listening to them. 

“You should rest,” Rowan said. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. They were sitting a couple feet away from each other, but they might as well have been sitting shoulder to shoulder for how much tension was between them. 

Aelin shook her head. “No, I need to go. I’ve been gone too long, they’ll start to worry.” 

“Let me at least walk you back,” Rowan said to her, leaning forward to get closer to her. 

Aelin’s head snapped to him. “Are you out of your rutting mind?” 

“The hell I’m letting you go back to the that house of killers the way that you are.” 

She gave him an innocent smile, “And what, exactly, am I?” 

Rowan narrowed his eyes and huffed out a breath. Oh, this insufferable princess would be the death of him. “Your knee is bloody and bandaged from last night as well as your hands. Your trousers are torn and ripped. Do you really want to go back there looking like death itself?” 

“I am death itself.” 

She stared Rowan down, just daring him to say more. “Aelin-” 

“Plus,” she interrupted, “what do you think will happen when I come waltzing up to the Keep with a Fae male, a warrior at that? I’m the only female in the entire Keep, not including the courtesans that frequent there. And I would like to not have my reputation tarnished because of it.” 

He closed his eyes and composed himself to handle this assassin. “At least let me go get us breakfast.” He silently begged her. Aelin conceded, lowering her head and giving him a small nod. Rowan walked over to the chair in the corner of the room and grabbed his cloak. He turned back around before the door. “Try to get some more sleep, Aelin. I’ll be back soon.” 

And with that, he left, shutting the door behind him. 

~~~~

As soon as the door had shut, Celaena Sardothien got up and went over to the window overlooking the street. It wasn’t a very large inn, so it wasn’t long before she saw his silver head from below. He looked at ease in the crowds. He weaved in and out of passerbys, tugged up the hood so he wasn’t as noticeable with his tattoo and his hair, and slipped around the corner and was out of her sight. 

She plopped back onto the bed face first, and groaned. Loudly. Why did she have to go and have a breakdown in the middle of the street. She couldn't have gone out of the warehouse apartment calmly, like a normal person. Oh, no. She had to let her feelings and emotions drown and suffocate her until she fell and hurt herself. And Rowan had been there to help her, even after all the horrible things she said to him. But he carried her out of her own personal hell, and into this little safe haven. 

She needed to get out of here before Rowan came back. Arobynn would be wondering what she had been up to all night long. He knew she liked to wander around at night, but she never stayed out all night. She had to leave, and she had to leave now. 

She stripped out of Rowan’s shirt and strode into the bathing room where her torn up pants were laying and pulled them on, stomped her feet into her boots and threw her tunic and cloak over her shoulders. She left the bandage on her leg, as it was still bleeding, but took the one on her hand off. The scrapes were still visible, but she didn’t care. Just another scar to go along with the rest. 

She snuck out the tiny inn minutes before Rowan came back with their breakfast in hand. 

~~~~ 

Rowan knew she was gone the second he opened the door. His shirt that she slept in was laying in a heap on the floor, her bloody bandages were in the rubbish bin, and all her things were gone. 

“Gods damn it, Aelin,” he muttered. He set the bag of food on the closest night stand, and left the room immediately. 

He knew exactly where she was headed. To that house of killers. From watching her this past week, he knew what kind of people the men that she lived with were, because that’s who she lived with. Men. Killers. Murderers. And that is who they made her out to be, a killer herself. He supposed it was the only way should could’ve survived what she had been through. There was only one of the men who seemed decent enough. But, he was no man, a boy at that. Probably a year or two older than Aelin. But, she seemed to not want anything to do with this young man. She was still so young, and so broken. He hadn’t noticed until he picked her up and carried her back to the inn and cleaned her up. 

He got to his usual perch on top of the neighboring house, across from Aelin’s bedroom, just as she was heading up the drive. The young man with bronze hair was there to meet her out front. 

“What the hell happened to you?” He called out to her as she approached him. From his heightened senses, he could hear the whole conversation. 

“None of your rutting business, Sam, so just let it go.” The boy, Sam, grabbed hold of her arm as she was walking past. “Let me go,” she said through gritted teeth. It seemed she wasn’t fond of this boy, Rowan thought. Interesting. 

He dropped her arm. “You had a job last night didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, so?” 

“You look like you were torn to pieces, Celaena.” 

“Not like you care, Sam, but the job went fine. No problems.” 

“Then why does it look like you traveled to Hellas’s realm?” He gestured to her ripped pants and bandaged knee. Aelin shifted from one leg to another. 

“Sam, just let me pass. I need a bath badly, then I’m going to Arobynn and confirming the death of merchant I killed last night and getting paid. You either let me pass-,” she lifted a finger and poked him in the chest hard that he moved backwards, “-or I will physically move you myself.” 

Sam moved out of her way and she stormed through the front doors of the Assassin’s Keep. Sam rubbed at the spot on his chest that Aelin had pushed him. He stared after her with a pained looked on his face. Not from the physical pain, Rowan realized, but from something else. The boy took one last glance around before heading back inside himself. 

Rowan stayed up on the neighboring rooftop for few more hours to keep an eye on Aelin and if she ventured back out. By noon, as nothing notably was happening with her, either she was sleeping or reading or enjoying her leisure time, he heading back into the streets of Rifthold and to his room at the inn. 

When Rowan opened the door to his room, he noticed that the window had been opened. There was a stale scent in the air. He quickly palmed one of the knives at his side and silently stepped inside, being mindful of the creaking floorboard by the entry. 

The room looked as though nothing has been disturbed. But on further inspection, there was indeed a scent hovering over his weapons and his clothes in the closet, in the bathing chamber and over the rubbish bin where Aelin’s discarded bandages still remain. 

Whoever the assailant was, they didn’t take anything. But in fact, left something for him. An envelope was sitting next to the bag of food he had left that morning. He tore open the letter and read: 

“To the Fae male stalking my city, Your presence is requested for dinner with your’s truly and my esteemed protege and ward, Celaena Sardothien, tomorrow evening promptly at seven o’clock. We look forward to this lovely encounter. Arobynn Hamel, King of the Assassins.” 

Rowan had an awful feeling that this dinner would not go well.


End file.
